


Something to Swear By

by GooseByTrade



Series: Growing Old Together in Moominvalley [2]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Gen, Moominmamma and Snufkin love and respect one another so much, Mostly Moominmamma thinking about her role as a mother, mentions of underage smoking, one bit implies Snufkin sometimes deals with fantastic racism, one sentence vaguely implies the existence of era typical homophobia, set when the kids are younger, some mild swearing, this is set in the forties so attitudes are different, with just a little plot drizzled in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GooseByTrade/pseuds/GooseByTrade
Summary: Snufkin, the young Mumrik who has taken to living in the garden during the warmer months these past couple of years, has always been an odd little duck. He simultaneously craves and abhors attention, his nature is both gentle and rebellious, he is both polite and aloof. Moominmamma can't help but love him, and wants to do right by him in any way she can.
Relationships: Muminmamman | Moominmamma & Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Series: Growing Old Together in Moominvalley [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1438798
Comments: 24
Kudos: 128





	Something to Swear By

Moominmamma enjoyed watching her children grow. Some parents lamented when their babies turned into children, or when their children turned into teenagers. "If only they could stay young and innocent forever!" she would often hear other mothers crow at the market in the little village by the sea. "If only babies would never grow up!"

Too polite to contradict these other mothers on their personal opinions, Moominmamma tried in vain to understand their logic. Everyday her children grew, and everyday she got to know them a little better. Bit by bit children continued to become the people they were going to be, and Moominmamma was nothing less than excited to greet the _new_ in her children every morning. How sad it would be, if she woke up to find her children were unchanging and stagnant. They would be dolls, not people.

Moominmamma had enjoyed playing with dolls when she herself was a child, but she much preferred being a real mother to her real children.

A lot of children had stayed in Moominhouse over the years, but there were five that Moominmamma truly considered to be hers. They had permanent places to sleep and spots at the table, and Mamma loved them dearly. This afternoon, like many afternoons before, she was watching them play under the big tree from the kitchen window. She was washing the last of the syrup from their lunch plates, enjoying the faint shouts as the five of them chased one another about. They were throwing a ball back and forth in a game of keep-away. Currently Sniff was "it."

There was her biological son, of course. Her first child, though he wasn't the eldest. Moomintroll's eyes shone with enthusiasm and he wore his heart on his sleeve. Perhaps a bit codependent for someone who would be turning thirteen in August, but Moominmamma was having trouble seeing that as a problem. She was glad to have him at her side so often, and to see him accompanied by his admittedly more competent playmates when he went on his adventures.

Sniff had joined the family next. He had become their ward at a young age when her and her husband's dear friends the Muddler and Fuzzy became unable to care for him. Sniff and Moomintroll had been friends even before Sniff had moved in and now they were, for all intents and purposes, brothers.

Snorkmaiden lived with her brother sometimes, but she spent enough time at Moominhouse that Moominmamma considered her one of her own. The Snork was... well, he tried, and... if Moominmamma couldn't think of positive things to think about the Snork's parenting style then she wouldn't think anything at all. Moominmamma admired that he had been there for her, and that his much younger sister had never been left all alone. Still, Moominmamma was glad that Snorkmaiden spent so much time staying in her room at Moominhouse. Snorkmaiden was very witty and great fun, and Moominmamma smiled to herself as Snorkmaiden made a great catch out in the backyard.

Little My may or may not be cheating out there. She tended to kick the ball instead of throwing it, and the collective noise everyone else made when she did so was hard to decipher from across the yard. Of all of Moominmamma's children, Little My was the biggest handful. Moominmamma knew it must be hard to adjust from being one of over-thirty children to being one of sometimes-five. Surrounded by a hoard of siblings who would all grow taller than her a few short years after their birth, Little My had developed other methods of asserting her dominance. Moominmamma could only hope that love and positive attention could help her outgrow some of her less admirable habits.

That, of course, left the current monkey-in-the-middle as her last child. Little Snufkin, the eldest but not the biggest, who might not like it if he knew that Moominmamma considered herself somewhat responsible for him. She had no intentions of smothering him with attention that he didn't want. She knew he was very capable of taking care of himself. He was independent by nature and highly competent. He could mend his own clothes, catch and cook his own meals. Snufkin tended to his own scrapes and bruises and was fairly good at finding natural remedies if anything ailed him. He was as tidy as a young man who lived in a tent could hope to be. And he was so resourceful! Snufkin's bravery and quick-thinking had saved the day on more than one occasion.

One could make the argument that Snufkin didn't need a parental figure at all.

Moominmamma disagreed, however. Snufkin's needs might be unique, but he still had them. Just because a child _could_ rely on himself doesn't mean he should have to. And, like all the other children, Snufkin carried with him his own challenges and burdens. It would be irresponsible for Moominmamma to not find ways to make sure he knew that someone would be there for him if he ever wanted to ask for help. He should never feel like he had to deal with his problems all alone.

As the children settled down under the tree to rest and talk, Moominmamma tried not to think about the years before Snufkin had found his way to Moominhouse. She could still see the little boy he had been when the comet had come clearly in her mind, and she could imagine him even younger. Like most people, Snufkin had always been a bundle of contradictions. Touch starved, yet reclusive and often distant. Lonely, yet socially anxious. Confident in his abilities and limitations, yet insecure when it came to what he deserved.

Moominmamma knew that Snufkin's youth had been harder than he liked to let on.

"Can you tell me about when you started smoking, my dear?" Moominmamma had asked him one day in the garden last year.

Though she didn't like that he had picked up such a nasty habit, she had decided to plant a few tobacco plants in her garden so that he might use them and not rely on the market in the village. Snufkin usually traded chores for a small pouch of tobacco at a small Trading Post, but after his last trip he had returned empty-pawed for reasons he refused to describe. The next day when Moominmamma had gone into the village on her own, the proprietor of the Trading Post had pulled her aside.

"How long do you plan to let the Mumrik boy squat on your land?" the trader had asked.

"You mean Snufkin? He isn't squatting; he lives there. He is more than welcome to stay as long as he wants."

"He's getting older; it isn't as cute as it was last year. The older he gets the more trouble he'll be, you mark my words."

Moominmamma had left his establishment immediately, never to return, and bought a couple of tobacco plants from the very kind woman down the street.

Snufkin had been very excited to see the plants. He had followed her into the garden to help her plant them, to assure her that he would help care for them and assert that Moominpappa should always help himself first. At Moominmamma's question he had grown quiet, and she had calmly waited as they finished up. She was just beginning to think Snufkin might not answer when he finally looked up and pulled his hat over his eyes.

"I started four years ago, I think. I didn't like it at first. I had to barter more often, and carry more things. And it burned. But I got used to it. I'm not sure if I could stop... I've never tried." Snufkin stated simply.

Moominmamma had given his statement a moment of consideration before asking, "Why acquire the taste? If you didn't like the sensation?"

Snufkin looked out toward the woods. "I wanted to be taken more seriously, I guess."

"Oh?"

"Most tramps are older than me. Sometimes they would give me a hard time or not take me seriously. One time I found a man who had cut his arm and I helped him bandage it. He told me I was mature for my age, and I told him that I was mature in my own right and age had little to do with it. He gave me my tobacco pouch as a reward and told me it would make me look older."

Moominmamma had smiled fondly at the boy who felt pressured to trade a measure of his health and independence in exchange for respect and safety and hoped the sadness in her heart didn't reach her eyes. She had wished someone had been there for him. Wished that _she_ had been there for him.

Currently, Snufkin was leaning against the tree and playing his harmonica while the others talked. Little My was waving her arms animatedly while the other three laughed. She was leaning against Snorkmaiden, who was playing with Little My's hair and weaving it into a thin little braid. Moomintroll was lying in his stomach, chin in his paws and subconsciously kicking his feet to the beat of Snufkin's tune. Sniff sat cross legged beside him.

Little My finished her story, and Sniff began to tell his. Moomintroll seemed to interrupt him a few times. Sniff playfully shoved at Moomintroll, but there was clearly no heat in it.

Snufkin stopped playing.

Snufkin said something to Sniff, who put his paws on his hips and huffed back. Snufkin stood, and said "How dare you!" loud enough for Moominmamma to hear it plainly. Sniff stood too, and the other children and Moominmamma watched in surprised awe as the two boys continued with raised voices. "You take that back!" Snufkin cried out.

"I will not!" Sniff insisted. "Moomintroll isn't upset, so I don't see why you would be!"

SMACK

To everyone's shock, Snufkin slapped Sniff. Snufkin paused, wide eyed, and covered his mouth in horror before fleeing into the woods. Moomintroll's shout of "Snufkin!" followed after him, but he did not turn back.

Well, this was unprecedented.

Sniff and the others came running back to the house, and Moominmamma was ready for them. Sniff was whimpering, softly repeating "He _hit_ me," over and over as if he couldn't believe it either. Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden looked scared and confused, and Little My was cackling. 

"Here, let me see, dear," Moominmamma soothed. Sniff wasn't bleeding, and it was hard to tell if there was bruising. Moominmamma gave him a gentle nuzzle on the cheek, a cold compress, and a cookie. "What happened?" she asked.

"We were just teasing!" Sniff defended.

"Sniff called me a bad name, but he was just joking! He didn't hurt my feelings. I tried to explain that to Snufkin, but I don't think he was listening." explained Moomintroll.

Oh dear. Her children were growing, and sometimes that meant growing pains. Recently, all of the children other than Snufkin had began to pepper their speech with swears when they didn't think any adults were listening. Perhaps it was to feel more mature, perhaps it was thrilling. Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden usually refrained around Snufkin, but Sniff and Little My were more careless. Sometimes Snufkin would chastise them, sometimes he would get up and leave. He'd never gotten angry like this, though. Perhaps the language had never been directed at someone he cared about before, Moominmamma pondered. She knew he had tender feelings for Moomintroll, and she couldn't imagine how hard being in love with a friend of the same gender would be on a child's psyche in this society.

"You have to understand that Snufkin can't stand foul language and accommodate him," Moominmamma began to explain.

"But why! He isn't usually such a stick in the mud, Mamma!" wailed Sniff.

"Well, sometimes bad things happen and people forever associate things with the bad memories. Do you remember the story of the first time Snufkin went to jail?" Moominmamma asked.

"Of course, for stealing a melon from an officer," answered Moomintroll.

"That story is hilarious!" added Little My.

"Yes, Snufkin does tell an entertaining version of it. But think back to how it must have felt, to be small and alone and in trouble. The officer was very angry, and very mean to Snufkin. He cursed at him and called Snufkin a lot of bad names."

"But Snufkin doesn't make it sound scary, in the stories," said Snorkmaiden.

"Snufkin is very good at keeping things to himself. He doesn't want people to worry, not about his future or his past. I think Snufkin probably had a bad time in jail, and when we swear around him we remind him of the angry officer."

"I never thought of it like that," said Moomintroll, his ears drooping.

"Well why didn't he say? I'd be more careful if I knew he had a valid reason to be upset," Sniff groaned.

"We should always assume people have valid reasons, my dear," Moominmamma explained, and she gave everyone another cookie.

Snufkin didn't return until that night, when all of the others were in their rooms. Moominmamma knew that Moomintroll was watching for him from his window and would probably try to sneak down his ladder, so she made her way down to Snufkin's tent first. Night time wanderings could wait.

"Good evening, Snufkin," Moominmamma greeted him as he came out of his tent. He stiffened. She wondered if his instinct was to crawl back inside. "It seems I made too much hot cocoa tonight, and it would be a shame to waste it. I brought us both a cup, if you are interested."

After a moment Snufkin nodded and took a seat on a long log. Moominmamma sat beside him and handed over his cup. They sat in peace and watched the stars twinkle for a bit before Snufkin broke the silence.

"I can leave," he whispered.

"Leave? Well, of course you are welcome to come and go whenever it pleases you, my dear. But please don't think anyone here wants you to leave."

"But I'm violent. You welcomed me here and I struck someone you care about."

"I care about you, too, Snufkin. Sniff isn't angry with you. I think he was just shocked. If you are sorry, I'm sure he would gladly accept an apology tomorrow."

"But I'm not sorry."

"Oh?" Moominmamma's ears perked up and she turned to face him.

"I mean... I'm sorry that I broke your trust and scared Moomintroll. But I cannot stand by and let anyone say such horrible things."

"Oh, sweetie. I know it is hard to understand, but sometimes people who like each other call each other insults in fun. I've never been fond of it, but different relationships work different ways."

"I know you wouldn't like it. And you weren't even there to defend yourself, Mamma! That was why I couldn't let him talk about you like that."

Wait, what?

"Insult me?" Moominmamma asked, incredulously. Had the other children lied? Had Snufkin misunderstood? "What was it that Sniff said, dear?"

But Snufkin refused to answer, and Moominmamma decided it was kinder to remind him that he was welcome and let him turn in for the night than to pester him. Still, she wanted to get to the bottom of this. Moomintroll's light was off, but she could faintly see him watching from his window. After placing the cocoa mugs in the sink she went upstairs and knocked on Moomintroll's bedroom door.

"Is Snufkin okay, Mamma?" Moomintroll asked as he let his mother inside.

"I think so. Just surprised with himself. I was wondering, what did Sniff say to you that upset him so much?"

Moomintroll stiffened and his eyes widened in shock. "What did he say? Oh, Mamma, does it matter? I wasn't upset! I don't like saying bad words in front of you. Must I say it?"

"I think it might help me understand what is wrong, sweetheart. You won't get in trouble. Who was he insulting?"

"He was insulting me. He called me a bad name."

"Which one, dear?"

Moomintroll paused before softly whispering in his mother's ear, "He called me a Son of a Bitch."

**Author's Note:**

> This might not be the most plot-heavy story, and absolutely breaks the "Show, Don't Tell" rule, but I thought it might be worth posting anyway. I wrote and edited this in just a few hours to get back in the groove for a multichapter, and so that there could be more than one story in this series. The writing is a bit simple, but I think it kinda fits since the kids are so young.
> 
> This was inspired by a conversation I had with thegoldensoundstwice a few months ago!


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